


The Only Time

by alinalotus



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, I'm a thirsty ass bitch, I'm so sorry ya'll, that's basically why I wrote this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 10:35:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14211303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alinalotus/pseuds/alinalotus
Summary: A drink, yes. That's what she needs. A drink. Or three. Continuation of Kinda I Want To, but can be read separately, though I'm not sure this should be read at all.





	The Only Time

**This is much longer than the previous installment...like ridiculously longer. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing though. I got carried away lol. I know this is OOC for Rio; I apologize in advance. My first few fics in a new fandom/new ship are always kind of rough, so bear with me!**

**OMFG I want Dean's stupid ass to burn on a goddamn pike. When Beth finds out he actually does not have fucking cancer, man I will be LIVING.**

**Warnings are: language, use of a gun (nonviolent though), oral sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids)**

**Also I should note that I have never shot a hand gun before, so the technique mentioned here is definitely not accurate.**

_I swear_  
I just found everything I need  
The sweat in your eyes the blood in your veins are listening to me  
Well I want to wrap it up and swim in it until I drown  
My moral standing is lying down 

The phone is sitting on the glistening counter top. The house itself is spotless- every last inch organized, each of the kids' rooms cleaner than when they had first moved in. Her bedroom is pristine- she'd thrown out all the old sheets, shams, the comforter, everything that Dean (her blood boils even just thinking his name) had ever laid his stupid, pathetic ass on. She may have spent more than she should have on new bedding, but she figures she's earned it. All new furniture would be her next purchase, after the next cut from Rio.

Rio. Well, that's the whole reason the phone is taunting her, isn't it? It's a direct line to him, and he himself had given it to her. It isn't like she should feel any guilt at wanting to call him for a reason that has nothing whatsoever to do with business. The kids are at camp for a week, Dean has hidden himself in the Berkshires with his parents, as though putting distance between he and Beth for a while will stop her from expediting their divorce, will keep her from telling all of their nearest and dearest friends and neighbors that not only had he fucked his secretary, nearly lost their house with three secret mortgages, but that because he had no idea how to fix any of his own damn problems, he'd also tried to lie and manipulate his way back into her life by telling her he has aggressive cancer! 

Which, obviously, he does not, and she wants to beat her head against the nearest object when she thinks how stupid it was to believe him- him, who had shown that he couldn't be trusted about practically everything...well, lesson learned. The only thing left to do is to clear him out of the family pictures. The ones of them together in the bedroom, she'd moved downstairs long ago. They are all sitting on the table in the entry way, ready to be tossed into the trash.

It's liberating, and not as sad as it should be, but their marriage had ended so long ago, even before his cheating and their financial distress. Maybe they'd gotten married too young. Maybe she was never really cut out to be the ignorant wife. Maybe Dean was just an entitled jackass. Regardless, they were over, and she is moving on with her life. He had made his bed, and she isn't going to spend another second on what ifs or maybes. 

Rio is younger than her. She knows this. She's got some years on him, but from the way he eyes her sometimes, she doesn't think he minds. She certainly doesn't have any reason to complain- his button ups and hoodies might not reveal very much, but she's sure his physique is something to marvel at. Not that it matters; she'd loved Dean through every stage of dad bod, and most of what made Rio so damn attractive had little to do with his appearance (though she never pegged herself for having a tattoo kink, yet here she was, wondering exactly how much of his skin was covered in elaborate ink). Still, she is sure that he never has to stop in the middle of sex because he can't keep it up anymore. 

A drink, yes. That's what she needs. A drink. 

Or three. 

**oooo**

A bottle of wine later she is feeling comfortable enough to actually pick up the phone. It's an inexpensive model, probably has basic coverage, and as she's done so many times before, she flips through the contacts. There is only one, a number with no name attached to it. What's he doing right now? Would he even pick up when he saw what number was beckoning him? 

Beth pours herself another drink- a hard one this time. She just has a question for him, that's all. It's a simple question, even. 

_Why?_

Why would he say to tell the FBI they were having sex? Why would that idea even enter into his brain? He, the dangerous, mysterious gang guy who carried a gun and stacks of cash, and her, the desperate mom of four with nothing to distinguish her from every other white woman in town. 

She is probably reading too much into it. It had been a good explanation, and if anybody knew how to keep the police off their trail, it was Rio. And yet...there was the way he looked at her when he said to tell them he was “hitting it”, and the smile he'd given her as he left her minivan...and the way he whispered to her when he left the diner the day he gave her the phone...

It's been a long time since anybody has been interested in her. It's possible she's entirely misreading Rio. But if there's a chance she isn't...

Taking a deep breath, Beth picks up the phone, texts the simple question, and after another long pull on her drink hits the send button. 

**oooo**

Rio is in the house before she realizes it. It isn't just that she's drunk, it's that he always slips in an out like this, there one second, gone the next. It's his trademark. 

“Christ, you can't keep doing that!” Beth exclaims, fumbling with her glass and spilling some bourbon on the counter. 

He gives her an amused grin, watching as she wipes up the amber liquid with the sleeve of her shirt. “Door was open.” 

Yeah, well, she isn't going to admit to him that when she has the house to herself these days she keeps it unlocked on the off chance he will do exactly as he's done tonight and creep in without a sound. 

“You could've just texted me.” Beth says, flustered. She hadn't expected him to reply at all, let alone show up here! Maybe it's the booze, but damn, he looks better tonight than usual, though he's just in usual get up, dark jeans, a button up, a zip up hoodie over his shoulders. 

“Yeah, I don't do that stuff over the phone.” 

She blinks at him, unsure of what to say. “You...want a drink?” She clumsily reaches for another glass and pours him a liberal amount. 

He tilts his head at her, a habit he has from time to time that drives her crazy because it puts his neck muscles at the perfect angle for her viewing pleasure, and then she can't form a coherent thought for at least a whole minute while she tries to get her bearings. On top of the alcohol, she's a lost cause right now. 

“What's with all the pictures?” He turns toward the entry way where the table there is stacked with all the pictures in the house that contain Dean. 

“Spring cleaning.” Beth shrugs, knocking back another swallow. 

“What'd he do?” 

Beth snorts. “What _didn't_ he do is a shorter story.” 

He nods, but not in a, I-told-you-so kind of way (though he already said that once, back in the diner) just a general, yeah-husbands-are-fuckers kind of way. Women like Beth didn't seek out a life of crime because all was well at home. 

“C'mon.” Rio says, and Beth blinks more rapidly. 

“What?” She isn't sure she heard him clearly. The booze is making her reactions a little slow.

“You asked why.” 

Beth nods slowly. 

Rio shrugs, as if that's all the answer she needs, and tosses her his keys. She catches them, bewilderment all over her face, as she follows him to the front door. “I'll be right there.” 

And before she knows what's happening, she's out in the dark, trying to walk as steadily as she can in her stilettos, to his car, only to find herself gaping at his mode of transportation. 

Annie and Ruby would be shitting themselves, she knows. Parked on the curb is a beautiful motorcycle- brand new, probably, one helmet hanging off the handlebars. Beth eyes the seat; there's not much room for two. 

Rio appears, a paper sack in one hand. “Yours.” He gestures his head toward the helmet and Beth reaches for it, grateful that if she at least falls off the back of this machine, she won't die from a brain injury. 

“I...” She begins, but Rio takes his keys from her, starts the bike, which is a lot quieter than she expected, and slides onto it. He puts the paper sack between his knees, and Beth has no choice but to buckle the helmet under her chin and climb on behind him. 

There's no room between their bodies as she settles into the space of the seat. She's glad she wore jeans instead of a dress today; it would've been a joke for her to be on this thing with a skirt flapping all around her. 

“Hold on, yeah.” Rio says over his shoulder, giving Beth just enough time to wrap her arms around him before he peels away from curb. 

She's trying not to think about how firm and warm he feels beneath her, or how good he smells. His aftershave is subtle, but enough to keep her wanting more. It's spicy and maybe a little woodsy, a far cry from the stuff every man this side of town drowns themselves in. The wind whips around them as they maneuver down the street, weaving in and out of cars, stopping only at lights until they hit the freeway. 

Beth's stomach drops as Rio shifts, more than doubling their city speed. She's never even been on a motorcycle before, and here she was, draped around a gang banger she's thought about in more inappropriate ways than she could count, her entire core vibrating against him. She inhales deeply, a mix of Rio's scent and the fresh night air filling her lungs; she can't help but laugh at the freedom she feels ripple through her limbs. 

Much too soon Rio slows the bike and pulls to a stop outside a neighborhood Beth has never been to. It's on the edge of town, but it looks nice enough; trees line the streets, new model cars are in the driveways, and the houses are all brick, looking as though they are at least a hundred years old, but all, from what she can tell from the street lights, nicely kept. 

Rio kicks out the stand and gets off the bike first, turning to look at Beth as she sits there, trying to catch her breath and take off the helmet. 

“Damn girl, that your first ride?” 

Beth grins at him. “Do I look like the kind of girl who rides one of these regularly?” 

Rio licks his lips as he drinks her in; strawberry blonde hair a mess around her shoulders, her eyes bright, heels dangling over the side of the bike. “Looks like you should be.” He says, and extends his hand to her. Beth's eyes widen in surprise but she takes it, and he pulls her off the bike and onto the cobblestone driveway. Even more surprising, Rio doesn't drop her hand once she is on her feet, instead threading their fingers together. 

He leads her up the driveway and onto a darkened porch, pausing to unlock the door. Rio takes her inside, flipping on the lights as they go. Rio gently drops her hand and she follows him into what turns out to be the kitchen, where he dumps the contents of the paper sack onto a quartz counter top. 

Beth is too busy looking around to notice; this kitchen is far more beautiful than her own, all brick and original hardwood, a driftwood dining table and modern chandelier completing the whole room. It could've been right out of an HGTV special. It is definitely not what she had expected, if she thought about where Rio lived. 

“Your husband,” Rio begins, and Beth snaps her attention to him. 

“Ex-husband.” She corrects him. Court dates and mediation lawyer or not, she and Dean are _so_ divorced as far as she is concerned. 

“Right, right. Ex-husband.” Rio lifts his shirt, and Beth swallows thickly at the strip of lean, coffee skin between the bottom of his shirt and the waist band of his jeans. He pulls out the gun she realizes too late is there, and hopes he hasn't realized she was oogling him. 

“God, I'm not going to shoot him!” Sure she's thought about it, though the sledge hammer she destroyed his office with would've been far more satisfactory than just capping his ass. 

Rio smiles- a full smile, like the one he'd given her in the mini-van- and shakes his head. “I had something else in mind.” He picks up the frames and starts down a side hallway, Beth right behind him, curious and skeptical. Okay so it might have crossed her mind once or twice that Rio and his friends could make short work of the problematic men in their lives- Boomer, Dean, Annie's ex- but she was never serious when she considered it. At least, not for long. She has no doubt, though, that if Rio thinks Dean is getting in the way of his business, that'll be it for her moronic ex. Right now, with the booze still in her system and the kids and everything else about her life far away from her, she finds it hard to care if Dean were axed. Sober Beth will be appalled, but god, as Annie rightly said, sometimes sober Beth was a downer. 

Rio opens a door and heads down a flight of stairs- Beth only slightly hesitates before following him, sure that if he was going to do something like kidnap her and chain her in the basement, he would've gone about it in an entirely more secretive way and anyway, she still owes him a cool 100k. So she's probably the safest she could ever be, right here with him. 

“Do you have...is this a shooting range?!” Beth screeches as they come to the bottom of the stairs. The room is large, the walls covered in sound proofing foam, the floors thickly carpeted. Against the far wall are several headless dummies, the kind she's seen in kickboxing classes. If she looked closer, Beth is sure she'd see bullet holes hammered through the torsos. She definitely does not want to look closer. 

“Relax. It's just a way to let off steam. Better than on the streets.” Rio strides across the room, tosses the stack on the floor and sets a picture- one of them on their wedding day- on top of the neck of a dummy. He's back beside her in a flash, holding out his gun to her. 

“Whoa, what am I supposed to-” She stammers, but Rio just gives her another stunning smile. 

“Never held a gun before, huh. Not surprised.” He pulls something from his pocket and screws it onto the end of the gun.

Beth rolls her eyes. “Yeah well it's a little hard to find time for glocks when I'm running carpool or keeping my house from being repossessed.” 

“Here.” Rio puts the pistol into her hand, then moves behind her, his arms suddenly around her. He lifts at her elbow, his other hand resting on her hip. Beth gives a sharp intake of breath at his closeness, her throat constricting even further when he pulls her hips into him, so that her ass is up against him- all of him. 

“First thing. Hold it tight.” His hand is covering hers over the gun. “Don't want to drop it.” His voice, rich and soft, is centimeters from her earlobe, his breath warm on her neck as he tilts his head down towards her. It sends a far too pleasant shudder up her spine, and she can't help but react to him as the fingers of his free hand slip just under the waist of her jeans. 

“You're gonna want to keep your eyes open.” Rio says with a chuckle, and Beth's eyes shoot open, mortified as she realizes she's let them flutter shut as she had leaned back into him. 

“Next?” She says, breathier than she means to. 

“Aim.” Beth tries to hold her arm steady as she lifts the gun to the picture. 

“Tighter.” Rio says, guiding her farther to the right. “A head shot.” 

Beth tries not to remember that Rio is a dangerously violent gang leader, because she's feeling flushed and hot and fuck, she wants to turn around and kiss him, to push him against the wall and- 

“Now squeeze.” He commands, and she pulls the trigger, jumping slightly as the glass of the frame shatters. Rio moves his finger to the safety, then steps away from her, heading down to pick up the picture. 

“Not too bad, sweetheart.” Rio holds up the mangled frame. She can see that her side of the picture is in tact- Dean's is unrecognizable. Rio looks at the picture again, a smirk on his face. Then he tosses it to the ground and picks up another one, putting it where the ruined one was. 

This time Beth is prepared for him to take his spot behind her, but it's no less thrilling, and she actually nudges against him. She can swear she hears a slight groan escape his lips, and he places both hands on her sides this time, pulling her shirt slightly up with his grip. She bites her lips as he moves one hand, then the other, just below her rib cage, the thumb of his right hand rubbing small, slow circles on her skin. 

“Safety off.” Rio reminds her, and she clears her throat, nodding, and raises her arm again. Rio moves his left hand, bringing it up to move her hair to one side, tracing the outline of a curl down the back of her neck with his knuckles. 

Beth's heart races, her breath heavy. Rio's hand moves from her neck, across her collar bone, then to the V-neck of her shirt. By this time she's almost forgotten about the gun, and tries to turn towards him, but Rio holds her firmly, one hand still against her side. “Aim.” His voice is lower than usual, thicker; Beth's eyes widen slightly, and she swears she feels a hardness at her back. By this time her situation down below is more than uncomfortable; she's throbbing and she can feel wetness begin to pool in her panties. 

“Higher.” Rio says, and obediently she lifts the gun within sights of the picture. She doesn't care, right now, if she hits it, or if the bullet goes through the damn wall; she just wants Rio to keep touching her, to keep teasing her. 

“Squeeze.” He commands, and she fires off a round, the frame once more shattering. 

Beth whirls around, looking up at him, his dark eyes nearly black, boring into her own. He slips the gun from her hand, stowing it on a shelf next to them. “Not too bad.” He repeats, and Beth nods, moving swiftly into him. His arms fall, almost automatically, into place around her, his palms resting against her ass. 

She doesn't know who kisses who first; their lips are desperately pressed together, and without invitation, she slips her tongue into Rio's mouth, tasting as much of him as she can. He backs them into the nearest wall, and now, there's no denying his arousal, rock hard and demanding attention. Beth is only too happy to give it. 

She runs her hand over the front of his jeans, earning a definite groan this time. She makes quick work of unzipping his pants and pulling them and his boxers down. She figured he would be endowed; she's stared at him far too often not to notice how his pants fit him, and she is pleased to find her assessment isn't wrong. She rubs his length between her thumb and index finger a few times, reveling in how smooth he feels, then wraps her palm around him, parting her lips. 

“Wait,” Rio stops her as she kneels down in front of him. 

Beth looks expectantly up at him; he wasn't going to get all moral on her now, was he?! 

Rio reaches down and pulls her shirt over her head in one swift motion, snaking a hand around to her back to unhook her bra. She's completely bare chested before him, and his eyes roam over her hungrily. She knows she doesn't have her prebaby perkiness back. She's got curves that no sweater or loose fitting dress can hide, but Rio isn't looking at her in disappointment, like Dean always did; he's looking at her like she's the sexiest fucking thing he's ever seen. 

“Better?” She says, a burst of confidence going through her. Her desire is outweighing her insecurities just now. 

“Yeah.” He says, his eyes flicking up to her face. She doesn't break eye contact as she goes down on him; he slides into her mouth, soft and hard at the same time. She pulls back, sucking on his head, stroking her fingers lightly up both sides of his shaft, earning a string of curse words, a mix of English and Spanish. 

Beth has never particularly enjoyed blow jobs, but this, this is a whole new level of giving, and she is definitely a fan of how Rio feels on her lips, on her tongue. His precum is salty sweet, and she feels herself get even wetter at the thought of his cum, hot in her mouth, down her throat...

“Christ, sweetheart,” Rio pants, and Beth drops her hands, taking his entire length into her mouth. All it takes is the heat of her mouth closed around his dick for him to lose it. His hands are in her hair, his seed pumping into her as she relentlessly sucks him off. 

“Knew you were a swallower.” He says when Beth pulls back from him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Or you hoped.” She retorts, standing up. 

Rio's hands find her breasts; he touches them gently, almost reverently, but when Beth unzips her pants he gets the hint that she needs something more, something harder and faster. 

“Stop doing my job.” He murmurs, kissing the crook of her neck, smiling against her throat when she sighs in pleasure. Suddenly he leans down, his arm under her knees, lifting her and heading out the door. 

Beth is definitely impressed with his strength, but how the hell did he plan to get up the stairs?! 

“I can-” She begins, but he quiets her with a raise of his eyebrow. 

“I'm not going to fuck you on the floor in the basement.” Is all he says, and before she knows it, they're up the steps and turning off another hallway from the kitchen and entering a dark room. Rio sets her down on what she assumes is a bed, and he doesn't bother to turn on the light as he fumbles over her pants, pulling them off her. She's left in her heels and underwear, and then he switches on the bedside lamp, licking his lips again at sight before him. 

Beth isn't drunk anymore, and she can appreciate the situation she's in- she doesn't want to think about how many other girls he's brought home, or how they looked sprawled across his sheets. She's thinking about her stretch marks and her ample thighs, but then Rio is on top of her, driving her self-doubt from her mind. 

His lips trail down her body; between her breasts, down her stomach, his tongue lapping for a second at her belly button, then back up, one hand lightly pinching her nipple as his mouth works the other. Beth can't help moaning; she's on fire and going to explode if he keeps at it. 

“Rio...” She nearly begs, and he gives her a classic smirk before peeling her panties down. 

“Ah, fuck.” He says, running a finger over the neatly trimmed patch of reddish gold curls. 

Beth had gotten sick of waxing and frankly lately she didn't have time for anything more than a quick shave in the shower. She hopes that Rio doesn't mind, and from the look in his eyes, he's more than okay with it. 

“It's not-” She starts, but he stops her. 

“What's the point of fucking a woman if she doesn't look like one.” 

Rio can see how ready she is for him, and it turns his semi into a full-on erection. He figures that Beth is a good old-fashioned sort of girl, and she'd appreciate something safe and familiar, like missionary. He wants that ass though, he wants to watch as he pumps in and out of her, but he figures he can hold off for a while. Her hurriedly unbuttons his shirt, now as naked as she is. 

Before he'd gone over to her place tonight, he had stashed a couple of condoms under the mattress just in case things turned out like he wanted. He's had his eye on her from the first second he'd seen her. There was the irritating problem of her having robbed him blind, but he actually had been pretty impressed with her and her friends abilities. Not killing them had been a good idea, and Beth had kept him on his toes ever since. 

He unwraps the condom and rolls it on in a sweeping motion. Beth, making a quick decision, reaches out and pulls it off him and throws it on the floor. 

“Not this time.” She says by way of explanation. 

The first time, at least, she wants to feel _all_ of him. She had her tubes tied after Emma, and though she knows a condom is still the smartest route, she doesn't care right now. He is all hard muscle, his gorgeous amber skin covered, as she had figured, in intricate tattoos, all the way down to his hips. Rio looks at her questioningly; as if to show that she's sure, she spreads herself open for him. 

Then he's between her legs, slowly pushing into her. Beth's head is tipped back, her core adjusting to him, and when Rio is fully inside her, her orgasm takes them both by surprise. Just being filled by him sends her over the edge; she can't imagine how her body will respond when he actually starts fucking her. 

Rio clenches the duvet in his hands as Beth convulses around him, trying to hold off his own release for a bit longer, a force of will tested when Beth whimpers and wraps her legs around his torso, squeezing him into her as far as possible. 

He starts to move, leaning over her so their chests touch, thrusting in and out at a slow pace, allowing Beth to catch her breath. It doesn't take long for her to writhe beneath him, her climax quickly building as he moves in and out of her, every nerve of her body on fire. 

Impulsively, (though later she thinks it's not so impulsive, as Rio seems to always be one step ahead of the game) Rio leans down, his lips to her shoulder, and there is a sharp nip of pain that gives way into pleasure; Beth arches her back, and Rio kisses the bite mark, admiring his work. It's a display of dominance, and Beth finds herself looking forward to seeing it in the next mirror she comes across. 

It only takes a few more frantic pumps for Beth to come completely undone, this orgasm rocking her entire body, stronger than her previous one. This time Rio can't control himself, and he forces himself as far as he can inside her, their foreheads touching as they both ride out the waves of shared pleasure.

They lay there for a few moments, Beth lamenting the moment when Rio will pull out. She could seriously keep his cock inside her 24/7. Slowly, Rio stands from her, gently closing her legs. It's almost like he knows her body better than she does; she is surprised to find how unused her hips are to being so spread, and as Rio heads into what she assumes is the bathroom, Beth moves into a more comfortable position. 

She isn't sure what should happen next. Should she grab her clothes from all their random spots throughout the house and call a cab? She doesn't even know where she is, let alone how to get home from here. She'd been a little too preoccupied with the giddiness of Rio and the motorcycle to pay attention to their route. 

Rio returns a second later, and Beth decides she should probably clean herself up, too. She figures whatever Rio's next move in, she'll follow suit. If he starts to dress she'll go gather up her clothes. The least he can do is request her an uber. 

She doesn't take long in the bathroom, running her fingers through her hair and pausing to search out some mouthwash under the sink. Finding her way back to the bed, she is relieved to see Rio sitting up, under the blankets. He lifts the comforter for her, and Beth gladly scoots in next to him, goosebumps erupting over her as Rio shifts them into a spooning position, trailing his fingertips over her naked body.

Except for his continued soft fondling of her breasts, Rio makes no movements, and says nothing, his breathing starting to deepen and even out. Beth herself is exhausted; she can honestly say she's never been spent after sex in her life except for now. Rio pulls the sheet tighter over their bodies, and the last thing Beth thinks before they go to sleep is how nice he's been to her this whole evening. 

**oooo**

Without kids or an alarm to wake her, Beth doesn't regain consciousness until far later in the morning than usual. When she opens her eyes she realizes that Rio isn't beside her, which is disappointing but expected.

She sits up, wrapping the bedding around her, while her eyes adjust to the light poring in through the window. 

Rio's room is masculine without being overbearing- blue duvet, dark, heavy furniture, a flat screen taking up most of the wall above the dresser. The floor length curtains hang over a bay window, a bench seat looking plush and inviting. This room- the entire house- could belong to any high-profile, wealthy businessman. Which, Beth chides herself, Rio is. 

She notices her burner phone on the bedside table, along with a cup of tea that is still steaming. She can't get over how thoughtful Rio is; if he wasn't the same man who had waved a gun around in her face, ready to kill her and her sister and best friend, she would say he was probably the most considerate man that she knew. 

Beth checks the time on her phone, and sees that she has an unread text message. It's from Rio (as if it would from anybody else) and all it says is, _stay_. 

Well, that settles it, then. Beth stands somewhat shakily from the bed, her legs a little sore from the previous night's activities, and stretches, looking around the room for something to wear. She opens what she assumes are his closet doors, seeing entire racks of his signature style; jeans in varying dark shades, button up shirts either gray, blue, or black, and several zip up hoodies. 

Picking a hoodie, she zips it up and turns to the dresser, opening a drawer here and there until she finds where his boxers are. She slips a pair on and heads to the bathroom. She hadn't been able to see much last night in her hurry to get back to Rio's bed. Her eyes widen in appreciation at the huge tub, complete with Jacuzzi jets, and the open shower with a massive shower head. Well, she might have try those out later...

On the counter Beth finds a toothbrush still in its packaging, a tube of toothpaste, a stack of towels and a brush. She tries not to think that he has a bunch of these things stashed around his house for his one night stands; after the way he fucked her last night, she knows she couldn't deal with it being a one-time thing. 

She washes her face and brushes her teeth, combing through her hair. She looks presentable, anyway. Rio had seen her naked and desperate and begging for him last night. No makeup and mussed hair isn't going to scare him away now. 

She goes back into the bedroom for her tea, and as quietly as she can, goes out into the hall, pausing to listen. The house is silent, and seemingly empty. She makes her way into the kitchen, where a covered plate sits on the counter. Did...did Rio make her breakfast?! 

Beth lifts the cover off the plate, thinking that if it's blueberry pancakes she's going to kill the smug bastard. It turns out to be over easy eggs, two thick strips of bacon, and an english muffin, already toasted and buttered. Well goddamn, who knew? Rio was being...he was being romantic! Really that's the only word that springs to her mind. Mind blowing sex, asking her to stay, (well, he hadn't really asked; Rio didn't ask for things. He told you what he wanted and she had learned long ago that Rio always got what he wanted), making her breakfast. 

Beth takes her food to the dining table, feeling oddly at ease with the events of the last twenty four hours. It's a testament to how much she's changed these last few months. She had thought, at the time, that her marriage ending had meant her life was ending. But she had picked herself up, made the choice to provide for her kids, and along the way she had found the Beth she had always wanted to be. 

Rio, of course, played a pivotal role in that, and still did. She never would have had the courage to jump into the sac with another man if it wasn't somebody who got under her skin in all the ways he did. 

**oooo**

Beth whiles away the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon by wandering the house, each room as decorated and clean as the last. In one room that looks like an office, each of the walls are floor-to-ceiling book cases. Rio never struck her as a big reader, but then again, he never ceases surprising her. She selects a few paperbacks and takes them back into Rio's bedroom, deciding to try out the tub. Rio has made no other efforts to contact her, and Beth is content to see him whenever he shows back up. 

She's enjoying herself, and after she finds a glass jar of bath salts under the bathroom sink she is actually excited to have this time alone. She can't remember the last time she was able to take a long, relaxing bath. 

After soaking in the tub, Beth gets lost reading a John Grisham novel, snuggled into the window seat with a throw blanket. She checks her phone, shocked to find that almost two hours have passed. She definitely wants to give that waterfall rain shower head a try before Rio decides to stroll back in. Stowing the book and her phone on the counter, she turns on the shower, letting it warm up before immersing herself in the luxurious stream of water. It's almost better than an actual massage, and she turns around so the water sprays her entire back. 

Too late she realizes she isn't alone; Rio is leaning against the counter, watching her. She tries not to show she's startled, but she thinks she can see him smirk anyway. 

“Enjoying yourself?” She asks, raising her chin at him. She's shocked at her own confidence, but something about the way Rio looks at her banishes all her self-doubt. 

He sheds his clothes and is joining her, coming up behind her, his mouth immediately finding the sweet spot on the back of her neck, his hands snaking up to her breasts. He definitely must have been enjoying himself; his hardness presses into her, leaving her aching with his proximity. Beth tips her head back on his chest, already panting with desire as, without preamble, Rio drops a hand to her core, his fingers expertly navigating her folds, but his plan isn't to draw out her pleasure. He makes sure she's ready for him, then pushes her forward, taking her plump ass in both of his hands, guiding himself to her entrance. He fills her with one thrust, Beth wincing slightly, but adjusting quickly to the new angle. 

She thinks he's missed her, and she doesn't how to feel about that. She's missed him- that goddamn smirk and the way he licks his lip and how his dark eyes take her in, always appraising her and finding her more than satisfactory. 

He grips her firmly, his pace, frantic at first, now maddeningly slow. Beth rolls her hips, moving in rhythm with him, her arms shaking as she tries to focus on supporting herself against the shower wall. Rio kneads and squeezes her ass, and Beth clenches down around him, earning a guttural grunt, Rio's composure falling away as he thrusts faster into her. Beth is almost undone, each second with Rio a new experience, a new realization of how deprived she's been. 

It's incredible how in tune their bodies already are, their orgasms hitting within seconds of each other. Beth hasn't even come down from hers yet when Rio whirls her around, kissing her with a heat that makes her spine tingle. 

Remembering how he tasted last night, how he enjoyed her mouth around him, Beth is only too eager to experience that again. She drops to her knees, but Rio isn't looking down at her; he's staring out of the shower, where one of his many cronies- Beth can't keep track of them all at this point- is standing. 

Beth shoots back up, trying to cover herself with her arms, though the man has already turned his back (but not before bestowing them both a shit eating grin). Rio turns off the shower and steps out, passing Beth a towel before taking one for himself. 

He motions unnecessarily for Beth to stay put while he leaves the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. She notices Rio has brought her clothes from last night. They're folded on the counter and she scrambles into them, deciding at the last second to throw on the hoodie she's been in all day. She combs out her soaked hair, then waits. She can hear muffled voices, but nothing specific. She doesn't know if this is out of the ordinary, though Rio hadn't look shaken or shocked. Beth is sure it would take a lot for him to lose his composure in that regard, though. 

The door opens again and Beth reaches for the brush lying there, trying to appear as though she hasn't been trying to eavesdrop. 

“My man, Ty, he says you're too good for me.” 

Beth snorts. This is, of course, ridiculous, but it's sort of amusing that his underlings call him out. 

“Is everything okay?” 

“I gotta take you home.” Is all he says, and Beth nods, following him out of the bathroom and through the bedroom, into the hallway. With Rio you never really got answers to your questions, at least not before he was ready to give them. She knows his operation is massive, as the warehouse had shown her. That many people under you and things were bound to get messy sometimes. Just dealing with Ruby and Annie alone was enough to make her insane. 

Beth finds her heels by the front door, and she slips them on while Rio gets his keys. She can't keep the smile from her face when she sees the motorcycle in the driveway. She can definitely get used to zooming around town on that thing. Without hesitation this time Beth gets on the bike, waiting for Rio to take his seat. He does, reaching behind him, pulling her by the knees until she's flush against him. 

He doesn't have to tell her to hold on this time. 

**oooo**

“Keep the hoodie.” He tells her, as she gets off the bike. Her neighborhood looks the same as it always did, but Beth can't help but see everything in a new and different light. Amazing sex, she thinks, will do that to a girl.

“Wasn't planning on giving it back.” Beth retorts, turning to start heading up the driveway, when Rio grabs her hand and pulls her back to him, pressing his lips to her own in a swift but heated kiss. 

He gives her one of his rare but brilliant smiles, and then he's gone. With a slight sigh Beth walks up to the front door and lets herself in, kicking off her shoes and vaguely thinking she should get some laundry going, when Annie pops out of the living room, holding a bag of chips, a fake cheery smile plastered on her face.

“Well hey there sis!” 

“God Annie, don't you have a home? Why do you insist on breaking into mine?” 

“Your door wasn't even locked. It's not B and E if I don't have to actually break anything to enter.” Annie bites loudly down on a chip. 

“Whatever. I'm exhausted so whatever mess you've gotten into now-” 

“Uh wow, thanks for the sisterly concern.” Annie rolls her eyes, “but I was just dropping off my first round of returns.” Annie indicates a large stack of money on the counter. “Couldn't find any of your handy dandy colored rubber bands so I thought I'd just wait for you to get home, and that was, uh,” Annie checks her watch, “oh yeah, yesterday.” 

Beth nervously clears her throat, yanking the bag of chips from Annie and putting them back in the pantry. 

“Yeah, funniest thing, I get here and nobody's home, lights are all on, but there's two glasses on the counter. So I figure, damn, did Beth meet someone? And then I realize how crazy that idea is, like you'd just leave with some stranger!” 

Beth is glaring at Annie by now, but Annie likes to be dramatic and draw things out for her own amusement, so Beth let's her go on. “Besides, I tell myself, when has Beth even had time to meet someone? The only people she's even been around lately are me, Ruby, her kids, her scum sucking road whore husband,” 

“Ex-husband.” Beth breaks in, now clearing away the bottle of alcohol and glasses in question. 

“Right, ex-husband,” Annie concedes, “and of course, the money laundering gang we're working for. And then,” Annie takes a deep breath and Beth, at the sink, clenches her hands around the cups. God, her sister is _so_ annoying, “it hits me! Gangfriend! I mean, anybody with a brain can see how he looks at you. Totally a prey and predator kind of thing.” 

“You know I keep the money in a safe now. You could've just put it in there.” Beth says through clenched teeth, drying her hands on a towel and turning her glower on her sister. 

“Couldn't remember the code. So,” Annie sits at a barstool, pulling herself in tight to the counter, “how was it? Does he have a tat down there? Oh god, you didn't do it in a creepy warehouse did you? Did he-” 

“Annie, oh my god, I'm literally going to punch you if you don't stop talking!” 

“Wait, that's his hoodie, isn't it? Oh jeez, he must really like you.” 

Beth flushes at that, but doesn't say anything as Annie continues to jabber, though she thinks that yeah, Gangfriend might really like her, too. 

 

**Oh my god I am so sorry if this was horrible. Thanks for reading anyway! As ever, feedback is appreciated. Lyrics used are from The Only Time by Nine Inch Nails.**


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